Stone Cold Affection
by OneWiththeChi
Summary: When Fung is unable to sleep at night he decides, going against the better part of his judgement, to visit his dad. But is there something strange going on? Please review and favorite if you enjoy.


Hope no one thought this guy as dead. If so, then do not worry I am not! I just have not done as much writing as i did when younger. However i managed to push this one out. Well I will not delay any longer enjoy and do what you guys usually do if you enjoy this piece. Review :D

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Fung stared at the night sky watching as the stars danced in the sky. The crocodile then looked to the crescent moon in the middle of the night sky.

 _Aww man… how long have I been staring at that darn moon?_ Fung thought to himself. There was no point in lying down at this point; he had been laying there trying to sleep but he did not yawn of feel his eyelids grow heavy.

 _Might as well get up_.

He bent his arm- _crack!_ An audible crack sound from his shoulder was heard and as a result he frantically but quietly looked around.

Just for a moment his mind wondered to the thought of having Gahri awake now. His jaw tightened and he grimaced at the thought. While they were his crew they were still very aggravating. The bandit leader did not want to hear either of their voices at this time at night.

He stopped wondering about hypothetical situations and focused back onto the task at hand. He looked around for any slight movements but the other bandits were still as they all slept tightly compacted to each other.

A wave of relaxation washed over him; he could relax. The crocodile's composure better, he slowly pushed himself onto his feet, grabbed his hat, and placed it on his head. Then he carefully made his way out of the crowd of crocodiles and stepped away from them. Fung leaned against a bamboo tree as he looked back at his crew in the grove.

The moonlight had illuminated the crew so that it covered everyone excluding Fung who was outside the moons rays and was enveloped in the darkness of the foliage.

The croc bandit never considered himself a sentimental crocodile. He never thought of looking to the past much either. But for some strange reason he was reminded a time before all of the bandit-ing and fighting. A surreal time where he was child, had _all_ the time in the world and that him and his mom and dad were inseparable.

 _Man times when Dad and Mom were…_

Fung sighed and turned away from the other bandits so his back was facing them. He was not going to stay here and think about old sappy memories. He had to live in the now. He put attention instead on what he was going to do with this free time.

He had thought of his options.

 _Should I visit Po? … Naw the Furious Five wouldn't let me inside at all. Plus they'd kick my butt if I tried getting into the Jade Palace. It'd look like I was stealing._

Fung then considered another option.

 _What about my cousin? Naw. If I go to him this late at night then he might crush me and I don't want that._

Fung then considered a radial option. His father…

His heart ached at the thought of going to his fathers. His mind screamed no but an even stronger part of him said to just go. Fung puts thought into it before going with the less likely decision.

He was going to see his father. He didn't know what drove him to choose this. Sentiment? Boredom? Thrill? Whatever the reason was it was beyond Fung as to why he chose it.

"What the heck am I doing?" Fung murmured to himself before he walked into the forest's foliage.

"Gawwwh! Darn bamboo trees!" Fung growled as he pushed past another bamboo tree before emerging onto his father's property only to trip on a rock and fall. Before he could grab anything, he fell into his father's cesspool face first.

Fung, disgruntled and disgusted jumped back onto his feet. He went to hurriedly wipe the gunk and mud off his face only to realize there was more of it on his hands and all over his body. His vision, blocked by the muck, made it hard for him to see where his clay pottery area of his house was but at least having a vague memory of the surroundings helped him. He quickly made his way out of the muck and onto the dirt floor.

When he gets to the dirt floor, he droped to the floor and starts to roll about noisily. His over-the-top exertion made tremendous noise as he banged around creating clash and clash sounds from the clay pottery. Pottery jittered as some fell to the floor and others banged up against others He did so dramatically and foolishly until he felt that the gunk was off of him.

The crocodile looked himself up and down but could barely make out how he looked. He should have realized earlier that even if he did clean himself up he couldn't quite see it. However, he _felt_ like he was clean and to Fung that's what mattered. Plus he could see clearly as he could in the darkness so that also reaffirmed that feeling.

Fung reveled in his own success before realizing his signature hat was missing from his head. He looked around but like before could not make out anything in this deep darkness. He felt tinges of frustration boil up inside him; the crocodile would need to come back for it later.

He threw the thought in the back of his mind as he begun his way from the back of the house to the front of it. Just as he took his first step, he heard grumbling come from inside the house. Fung stopped and looked up to the only window that was located at the top of the house and in the back. That must have been his father.

 _No way Dad didn't hear me_ …

Fung thought about the amount of noise he made. It would wake up even the heaviest sleeper, if the person crashed into clay pottery. He was waiting, anticipating even as he waited for his Dad to push his head out the window. The bandit leader has already readied himself for a torrent of complaining, nagging, and insults from his Dad. It was just to assume that disposition. That was how he treated him and everyone else after the terra cotta incident. Whether it was his mother or grandfather no one could escape his father's fowl attitude.

But the action never came. Fung had his eyes closed and his body had turned stiff but he never heard a single call from his Dad. Instead what he heard was more incoherent grumbling coming from inside.

"Whaa…" Fung gawked. His dad really did not come out. His father, a crocodile who nearly ruled China when he was younger, did not have the wisdom to check for what all that noise was about.

The now giddy crocodile was glad. Now he could _try_ and speak to his Dad without it being an even stranger occurrence. Then again, going to speak to his Dad in the middle of the night was still strange but at least meeting him on even footing would help. If he turned back then he could avoid this issue all together…

The croc bandit however did not turn back; he had long since set his mind to finishing this. He went over to the front door and knocks. The sound made the weak door vibrate.

Fung waited at the door with his hands folded into his chest.

 _Anytime now…_

Fung continued to wait.

 _What's taking him so long?_

While he had no way of keeping record of time he knew something was off. He did knock loud enough. He did hear him; the crocodile had no doubt about that.

 _The jerk is probably ignoring me. Well now I got something to tell him…_

The croc bandit grabbed the handle and not realizing the door was unlocked, swung it wide open. The door had hit against the wall creating a loud thud.

"Hope you heard that jerk!" Fung had said aloud before a chill pushed past him. The bandit closed the door behind him and looked around the main floor. Fung could make out his father's eating quarters and living quarters. Nothing in particular was off beside his house being unusually clean. His father was not known for cleanliness.

Fung spotted the staircase leading to second floor in the top left corner of the room. As he strolled by he spotted a few drawn pictures of him and his parents. The coverings had a weird triple spiral design that was difficult to see in the darkness. They were covering his mother in nearly all of them. Some were covering his Dad but none him

Why would everything around look clean except for the family drawings?

 _Must be some stupid art design…_ Fung shrugged the thought off. He had never seen his father as the artistic type anyway.

Fung had begun to climb the stairs afterword. The wooden stairs squeaked and creaked as he climbed them quickly but still no response from his father. As he reached the top he saw a faint blue light illuminate the hallway.

He reached the top of the stairway and looks down the hallway. The door, farthest from the stairwell, was cracked open giving off a faint blue light.

The croc bandit walked down the hallway carelessly knowing that his Dad would not respond. However he knew good and well not to just barge into the room. He did not want his Dad to do anything crazy…

Fung could feel chills set through his body as he heard the grumbling of Dad. It was louder because of his range and this time it was coherent.

The crocodile approached the door and looked through the cracks and listened carefully. He could definitely see his father but he was on his knees. In front of him was a terra cotta warrior that was emanating a blue aura. But there was something _strange_ about this clay warrior.

It had a slender shape almost like an hour glass unlike the usual brown bulky ones he saw before. The face was less detailed and seemed adorned with more feminine aspects such as a clay bowtie behind its head and detailed eyelashes. The terra cotta warrior also did not have its usual armor design but instead a flowing gown adorned with intricate flower designs. Its hands were clasped tightly together and close to its chest.

However the expression of the clay warrior showed the slightest hint of. Its lips pressed together tightly and its eyes looked strained as it stared at the wall. It looked to be pain.

 _That thing looks like…_

Fung's thought process stopped when his father had begun to speak.

"You know I missed times like this darling. I wish we could have more time like this." Bahri stood and took a step closer to the statue. He placed both of his hands onto the hips of the statue in a way to mimic affection.

Then an uncomfortable silence sets in the cold atmosphere. "What's bothering you?" Fung's father looks up at the clay figure, his voice expressing concern to fit with his expression.

Fung looked back at the clay _soldier_. It was staring right at him.

Fung had dashed out the house, not looking back out. He was not planning on looking back or going to. He jumped back into the bamboo forest and ran. He did not stop even for his hat. He kept on running until he slammed into something.

He fell backward with a large thud sound.

Fung closed his eyes and screamed from the top of his lungs. The trees vibrated as he let out his howl. He did not recall how long he had screamed but he knew he did and that he was frightened. What happened back there more than scared him. He didn't have the words to even describe it.

But as his squealing died down, silence settled in. Fung lied there with his eyes closed stiff. He gritted his teeth and his hands were over his head.

"Fung…" The croc leader recognized that voice. His eyes opened and he saw Walleye standing over him.

The croc leader went from a look of terror to a blank expression. He pushed himself back onto his feet and brushes himself off.

 _Gawwh… why the heck is this happening to me?!_

"Uuuummm… Why are you out so late Walleye…?" Fung looked away from Walleye. His tail curled behind his legs.

"I was goin for a walk at night. It's funnier that way. Where's that hat you mommy got you?" Walleye asked, pointing to his hat-less head.

"Umm I lost it while I was walking around…" Fung paused to think of something to say. "I had to take a leak."

Walleye stared at Fung and in return Fung stared away from him.

"You go look for it Fung?"

"Yeah I will. Gotta go back for it…" Fung said as he continued to walk with the other crocodile, not looking back.


End file.
